Illustration: Andy Singer

    I love the snow. Not because it marks Christmas but because I love snow blowing. So when some people stay inside, I put on my coat and gloves and trek out with my snow blower, and I walk around knocking on doors seeing if anyone will pay me to snow blow. Most often they won’t, but sometimes they do. It’s all luck.

    I’ll go out in the morning and come home right before dinner. It’s cold, sometimes frigid, but I’m a Minnesotan, so it doesn’t bother me that much. I love being out there cold but somehow content, as if the world would wait for me. As if time itself will let me walk by unnoticed. If you have never snow blowed, I suggest that you do.

    You won’t feel cold after a while, and you’ll see that the world, if only for a second, seems to be right. Everyone has something that makes you feel like that—if you don’t, I suggest you find yours or you’ll be a very grumpy person. The snow blower is really loud, but it gives you all the time you need to think. It’s a magical sort of peace that I get nowhere else. My parents get scared a little bit each time I go out because it’s just me.

    There are other people like me who love to snow blow as much or more than I do. It is the greatest thing I’ve ever done. Well, some people are very lucky: they get to do this on a very nice ATV, which is my dream. For all of you Minnesotans who flatter yourselves by thinking you’re hardy, I suggest you snow blow for a while. That’ll take you down a notch. I love the winter, plain and simple.